Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications.

Views to: Linda@hamgdns.freeserve.co.uk

Thought it was about time Ray and Fraser battled the computer age. I probably have all the computertechnical stuff completely wrong, so apologies in advance.

Comes from watching too much Star Trek!

VIRUS

by Linda Hughes

Friday afternoon saw Constable Benton Fraser entering the 27^th precinct building, Diefenbaker at his heels. Fraser grinned to himself as the wolf ran up the stairs eager to find his favourite American. Entering the squad room, Fraser saw his wolf laying contentedly under his partner's desk, his nose resting on Ray's boots.

"Hiya Frase," Ray waved him over.

"Good afternoon Ray," Fraser answered as he sat down in his usual chair, his stetson resting on his knees. He studied his partner frowning; Ray looked tired, his thin face pale. "Are you well?" he asked immediately concerned.

"I'm good Frase. Just kinda tired," Ray replied. "Had a busy week what with half the squad out with this flu bug," he waved his hand around the half empty room.

"I see," Fraser said. "Can I help you with your paperwork?" he indicated the untidy desk.

"Ya don't have to," Ray protested catching a file before it slid off the desk to the floor. "I'm all over it."

Fraser grinned. So I can see," he teased laying his stetson aside. "I have finished my duties for the week at the Consulate so I am available to help you."

"Thanks Frase,"Ray smiled warmly. "I'll treat ya to pizza when we're done."

Dief woofed from under the desk. "Diefenbaker," Fraser scolded standing up. "You are not helping with the paperwork so you don't deserve pizza." Dief whined in protest. Fraser smirked and started towards the door. "I'll get us some coffee."

Ray watched until his partner had disappeared towards the break room. Peering under the desk at the wolf. "Don't worry buddy, ya can have some of my pizza," he whispered fondling the wolf's furry nose. Dief licked his hand lovingly.

Fraser returned with two mugs of coffee, and the partners worked quietly on some of the paperwork. The silence of the squad room was broken as the door of the lieutenant's office flew open. "Vecchio. In here now," Welsh yelled. "And bring the Mountie with you."

"Now what?" Ray sighed as he slowly got to his feet heading towards the office, Fraser and Dief following. Fraser frowned; he noticed that Ray was lacking his usual frenetic energy.

"Ya yelled Lieutenant," Ray said standing in front of Welsh's desk, his hands on his hips.

The lieutenant glared at the blonde detective. "You finished up the Glasdon case?" he asked.

Ray nodded. "Just finishing the paperwork."

"Good," he waved a piece of paper at the slender blonde. "I want you and the Constable to go over to TriCom and see the Senior Vice President in Charge of Operations. I've written his name down for you," he said as he returned to his paperwork. "Apparently, they've received some kind of threatening mail."

Ray glanced down at his watch. "I was just about to leave," Ray murmured quietly running his hand through his blonde hair.

The lieutenant looked up from his paperwork studying the slender detective. "I know it's been tough this week, and I appreciate the extra hours you've done. Look just check it out and report back. OK?"

"OK Lieutenant," Ray murmured taking the address.

Ray drove the GTO through the late afternoon traffic towards the downtown business area of the city. After driving in circles for ten minutes, the partners finally found the TriCom building, towering up into the Chicago skyline. Its tinted black windows gleamed in the fading afternoon sunlight setting it apart from its neighbouring buildings. Parking the GTO carefully, Ray and Fraser strode towards the entrance of the building, leaving Diefenbaker curled up asleep on the back seat.

Ray looked upwards squinting against the sun. "Wow. Looks kinda new. Don't remember this being here," he noted hooking his sunglasses into the top of his tee-shirt.

"Actually," Fraser said. "The building has been here for fifteen years, but has just undergone a complete refurbishment, costing in the region of seven million dollars American."

Ray looked sideways at his partner. "How do ya know that?" he asked.

"I keep myself abreast of the business news," Fraser replied primly.

Ray narrowed his eyes at the Mountie. "Abreast. What kind of word is that?" he grumbled as they walked towards the entrance of the building. As Fraser started to answer, Ray turned and glared at the Mountie. Fraser decided the best option was to keep quiet.

Ray pulled on the door; it remained tightly closed. "What the?" he snapped as he rattled the door in frustration. "I do not need this," he laid his head against the coolness of the glass door. His head ached and he felt sick.

Fraser stepped forward concerned. "Perhaps, if we knocked....," he started to say raising his hand.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to TriCom. Please state the nature of your business," a computerised voice boomed from above.

Fraser stepped back momentarily startled; he looked up towards a camera that had turned to face the partners, a bright red light blinked irritatingly as the machine silently studied the partners. "Good afternoon. Welcome to TriCom. Please state the nature of your business," the voice repeated.

"I heard ya the first time," Ray snapped as he held his identification up to the monitor. "Detective Vecchio, Chicago PD to see yer Vice President."

The red light blinked twice. "Please proceed to the reception area where you will be met by a representative of our company," the voice replied. "Enjoy your visit with TriCom."

"Thank you kindly," Fraser said as the door swung open admitting the partners to the building.

"Jeez Frase. It's a machine," Ray sighed in exasperation. "Ya don't have to be polite."

"As I have said on many occasions, it only takes an extra minute to be courteous," the Mountie protested.

"Frase," Ray warned.

"Understood."

***************

The partners were ushered by a security guard into an expensively furnished office. "Gentlemen," the owner of the office approached them his hand out stretched. "I'm Edward Martin. Please sit," he indicated two comfortable chairs.

Sitting Ray got out his notebook, flipping to a clean page. "I understand ya have received some threatening mail," he said hunting his pockets for a pencil. Fraser coughed handing his partner a pen. Ray glared at the Mountie. He turned his attention back to Edward Martin. "Have ya still got the mail?"

Edward Martin opened a file pushing it towards the detective. "We've received two anonymous notes so far via our internal e-mail system. Whoever sent them doesn't seem to want money."

Ray took them scanning the contents and handing them to Fraser for inspection. "So, can he or she do it?" he asked. "Smash yer whole system with a disease."

"I think you mean crash and virus Detective Vecchio," Martin smiled at him. "No. Absolutely not. Our security system is foolproof. It has to be. As I am sure you know, our main function at TriCom is to monitor and maintain some of the biggest computer systems in the United States. We also have offices in Tokyo, Paris, Toronto and London. Our clients rely on us one hundred percent. We are very proud of our reputation."

Ray nodded scribbling in his note book. "So just who are yer clients Mr. Martin?" he asked looking up.

"Oh you know the usual. Banks, insurance brokers and finance houses," Martin replied fiddling nervously with his fountain pen. "Couple of government agencies in Canada."

"May I ask a question Mr. Martin?" Fraser said politely. Martin turned his attention to the Mountie nodding. "If your security system is foolproof, how come these messages were received on an internal e-mail system?"

Martin blushed bright red at the question. He stood up. "I don't really .... really know," he stuttered.

"Am I right in thinking that this particular system was designed for use by this building only?" Fraser continued.

"Yes. We have another system for external use," Martin replied.

"Let me get this right," Ray interrupted. "No one from outside should have access to this system?"

"Correct Detective. It's a common practice in our business as it keeps the internal and external mail separate. It makes operating easier," Martin responded. "Look may be you should meet our Head of Information Technology. I am sure he could help better than I can," he moved towards the door. "I'll get my assistant to take you to his office."

Ray and Fraser shook hands with Martin as they left the office. "We'll be in touch Mr. Martin," Ray said handing the man a business card. "Here's my number if ya need to contact me."

**************

Fraser and Ray were ushered into another luxurious office. The occupier had his back to the partners. Swinging round in his chair, Fraser heard his partner suck in a breath. "Gene," Ray gasped in surprise.

"Half pint," the man leapt out of his chair. "What are you doing here?" I was told to expect a Detective Vecchio."

Ray blushed bright red at his childhood nickname. "It's a long story," he mumbled as he was drawn reluctantly into a hug by his older brother.

"Whatever," Ray's brother waved his hand dismissively. "So Mum and Dad didn't tell you I was back in town."

"No," Ray muttered dropping his head to study his boots.

"I'm staying with them until I get myself sorted out. But then you don't call them much," he said accusingly. Before Ray could offer a reply, he turned his attention to Fraser. "We've not been introduced. Half pint was always short on manners." Gene said sticking out his hand.

Fraser took the offered hand. "Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. Ray's unofficial partner and friend."

"Gene Kowalski," he introduced himself.

As they shook hands, Fraser studied his partner's brother. Three inches taller than Ray, Gene Kowalski had a shock of dark blonde hair greying at the edges. Amused emerald green eyes stared back at him. Dressed in an expensive grey Armani suit, he conveyed an aura of confidence and self-assurance; the complete opposite of his casually dressed partner. Fraser guessed that he was about ten years old than Ray, his tanned face exhibiting lines around his eyes and mouth.

"So Half pint. Got yourself a Mountie as a friend," Gene teased as he sat behind the large desk. "A real live Nelson Eddy."

Ray ignored the comment narrowing his eyes at his brother. "So what can ya tell us about the threatening notes your company has received?" He flicked through his notebook. "Edward Martin tells us that they were received on an internal e-mail system."

"My baby brother never did have a sense of humour," Gene glanced at Fraser grinning. "Always was a serious little kid."

"Yer boss said ya might be able to answer how the notes got on an internal e-mail system," Ray persisted.

Gene sighed loudly leaning back in his chair. "OK then. Down to business," he leaned forward. "Between you and me, Edward is just panicking. The notes are just practical jokes from some disgruntled member of staff. No need to call you guys in at all," Gene replied. "We can track the e-mails to the computer terminal they originated from."

"So ya don't think it's anything to worry about?" Ray queried.

"He also states the obvious," Gene directed his teasing comment to Fraser. "Look. Our security and virus checking system is the best in the world," Gene boasted sitting back in his chair. "TIM cannot be penetrated."

"TIM?" Fraser cocked his head to one side puzzled.

Gene sighed, his dark eyes flashing with exasperation. "TriCom International Monitoring System," he explained. "TIM for short."

"I see," Fraser mused. "How does it work?"

Gene looked surprised at the question. Recovering, he smiled at the Mountie."Well the money markets at home and abroad talk to each other. Chatter, chatter, chatter," Gene grinned at the partners.

"And then what happens?" Ray asked not smiling back.

Gene sighed. "These big powerful money houses transfer funds back and forwards by means of tiny electronic signals. TIM monitors these signals ensuring they get to the correct main frame. As an added bonus, TIM also provides security and virus checking along the way," Gene explained. "See easy."

"I see," Fraser murmured. "And you are sure that this system cannot be penetrated in any way, and that there is no way a virus could be introduced?"

"No," Gene replied. "There are only four people who have access to TIM's central processor."

"And they are who?" Ray interrupted.

"The President of TriCom, Christian van Allyn. His Senior Vice Presidents Colin Jamieson and Edward Martin. And Pierre DuMaurier, who's Head of Design and Development," Gene replied. "And as added security, it needs at least two of them to enter their master passwords to access the system. Trust me when I say that TIM is impenetrable."

"But the messages were still sent via an internal e-mail system," Fraser persisted. "A system that is unique to this building alone."

"The e-mail system is not a part of TIM. It's completely insignificant," Gene stood up dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. "Look I hate to rush you both, but I've got an important dinner engagement."

"One last question," Ray said getting to his feet. "What happens if yer practical joke aint one, and a disease thingy is introduced into yer system?"

Gene scowled at his younger brother. "I just told you that it can't happen." He looked at Fraser grinning. "He doesn't listen either."

Fraser coughed embarrassed. "Actually I was just about to ask the same question," he said.

"Alright. Alright. You win," Gene sighed in defeat staring at the partners. "Like any disease, it will spread quickly throughout the system and associated networks," he slammed his hand down onto his desk making Fraser and Ray jump in surprise. "Melt down," Gene grinned. "TriCom is no more. Does that explain it clearly enough for you both?"

"Yeh," Ray murmured stuffing his notebook into his pocket. "Thanks for yer time. We'll be in touch."

Fraser headed towards the door, waiting politely in the outer office while the two brothers said their goodbyes.

"Well Half pint. Now that I'm back in town to stay, we should do lunch sometime," Gene slapped his younger brother on the back. "My treat. I'm sure you don't get paid much. And bring Nelson with you."

Ray turned angry eyes on his elder brother. "His name is Fraser," he snapped. "And for the record, I aint been Half pint for years. It's Ray. OK?"

"Whatever," Gene dismissed his brother's fury. "Give me a call."

***************

Fraser followed his partner out into the parking lot; he could tell Ray was upset. He was muttering under his breath, and waving his hands in the air wildly. Once at the GTO, Ray began pacing up and down still muttering to himself.

"Ray. Ray. Ray," Fraser stood in front of his partner. "Ray."

Ray stopped pacing, his head jerking up. "What?" he snapped.

Fraser adopted his best innocent expression. "So I take it you didn't know your brother was back in Chicago?" Fraser asked.

"Nah. Haven't seen him for about five years," Ray replied quietly, resting his arms on the top of the GTO peering over the top of his sunglasses. "Haven't spoken to Mum for a while. Last I heard he was in Paris, and before that Tokyo."

"He seemed genuinely pleased to see you Ray," Fraser noted kindly. "Even though he did insist on calling you Hot Pot."

"Half pint," Ray corrected smiling thinly. "I aint been called that in years. He glared at Fraser. "And yer not to tell anyone. OK?"

"Understood," Fraser adopted his best serious expression. "Mountie's honour."

Ray dropped his head, resting it on his folded arms. Fraser noted that his partner looked suddenly pale, his anger seeming to have drained his energy. Before he could offer a comment, Ray looked up. "Pitter patter," he said unlocking the door sliding into the driver's seat. "Promised ya pizza."

They drove back to Ray's apartment in silence. Fraser was surprised that his friend obeyed all the traffic signals carefully manoeuvring the GTO through the heavy rush hour traffic. They stopped to collect pizza from the local take-out. Once back at the apartment, Ray disappeared into the small kitchen to make some hot drinks.

"I'll just call the lieutenant to fill him in," Ray said as he placed two mugs on the coffee table. "Make yerself at home," he said disappearing into the bedroom. "And help yerself to the pizza."

Fraser leaned forward opening the box; he smiled to himself at the sight of the extra pineapple generously topping the pizza. He helped himself to a piece, delicately nibbling at the crust. Dief whined hopefully from under the coffee table.

"I think I told you earlier that as you didn't help with the paperwork, you didn't deserve any pizza," Fraser said primly. Dief barked softly in protest.

"Oh give him a piece Frase," Ray pleaded as he returned from the bedroom. "He kept my feet warm so he was kinda helping." Dief woofed in agreement, looking up at Fraser hopefully.

"Very well," Fraser conceded selecting a piece of pizza and offering it to the wolf. "But only because he kept your feet warm." Ray grinned as the wolf gobbled the pizza quickly before the Mountie changed his mind.

Ray slumped into the armchair picking up his mug of coffee. Dief crawled from under the coffee table, settling himself across Ray's feet. "See," Ray said. "My own foot warmer."

"What did Lieutenant Welsh say?" Fraser enquired taking a bite of his pizza.

"Oh ya know, the usual," Ray replied. "Keep an eye on things for a few days. See what happens. Run the usual checks."

"Aren't you hungry Ray?" Fraser asked noticing that Ray hadn't helped himself to any of the pizza.

"Nah. Not really," Ray replied closing his eyes. "Sorta lost my appetite."

Fraser coughed nervously. "I take it you and your brother aren't close?"

"Nah, not really. He's ten years older than me," Ray explained taking a sip of his coffee. "Never had time for his dumb kid brother. Always in his room with his computer. My Dad worked extra shifts, and Mum went without so they could buy him one. They were so proud of him," he leaned forward taking a piece of pizza. "He's everything I'm not. Smart, stylish and successful," Ray said not able to cover the tinge of sadness in his voice.

"Ray. I am sure your parents are very proud of your achievements," Fraser scolded hating the way his partner put himself and his accomplishments down. "You are a good police officer."

"It was never good enough for Mum and Dad," Ray murmured. "Never will be," he fed his slice of pizza to Dief ignoring Fraser's reproachful look.

"Ray," Fraser chastised.

Ray put his hand in the air halting Fraser mid sentence. "Don't matter anyways. I'm kinda..... kinda used to living in his shadow." Fraser frowned at the comment opening his mouth to argue. Ray glared at him, and he decided to keep silent. Ray sighed heavily. "Look Frase. Gene was the smart one at school. He designed his first computer programme at 19 years old. Graduated a year early. Me I hated school. Was never any good," Ray explained. "Couldn't add up to save my life. And ya know what I'm like with computers. They hate me."

"Ray. I am sure that computers don't hate you," Fraser said solemnly.

"Yeh they do," Ray answered. "They see me coming, and start popping their chips all over the place."

"Now you're exaggerating Ray," Fraser stifled a laugh helping himself to another piece of pizza. "It's just a matter of understanding how they work."

Ray sighed again. "I just get kinda...... kinda confused with all them megathingys and kilawhatsits," he admitted taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. He leaned back in the armchair resting his head. "He may be able to programme anything he touches, but he can't dance," Ray muttered.

Fraser looked puzzled at the change of subject. "I beg your pardon," he said not sure if he had heard his friend correctly.

Ray sat up grinning at his friend. "Only thing I could do and he couldn't. He's got no rhythm despite his name."

"His name?" Fraser looked even more confused.

"Gene. My Mum named him after her favourite movie star," Ray explained. At Fraser's puzzled look. "Ya know Singing in the Rain, Brigadoon, An American in Paris."

"Ahhh. I see," Fraser mumbled. "Your parents did seem to like the movies."

"Aint that the truth," Ray agreed.

**************

Ray had fallen asleep on the couch half through a John Wayne movie that Fraser had chosen. Retrieving a blanket from the bedroom, Fraser tucked it snugly around his friend. Ray mumbled in his sleep turning on his side. Dief jumped onto the couch, snuggling into the gap between the blonde detective and the back of the couch. "Diefenbaker," Fraser scolded. The wolf stared at the Mountie defiantly, laying his nose on Ray's back. Sighing Fraser quietly tidied up their supper plates. Turning off the lights, Fraser made himself comfortable on the floor with another blanket and closed his eyes waiting for sleep to claim him.

Fraser woke to the sound of Ray's cell phone ringing. Finding it under a heap of papers on the coffee table. "Detective Vecchio's cell phone. Constable Benton Fraser speaking," he whispered so as not to disturb his still sleeping partner. He nodded several times, and then hung up the phone. "Ray," he gently shook the blonde detective.

Ray swatted at the hand. "Go way," he mumbled turning over.

"Ray," Fraser raised his voice. "Wake up. There's been an explosion at TriCom."

"What?" Ray sat up with a start rubbing at his eyes.

"Lieutenant Welsh just called. There's been an explosion at the TriCom building," Fraser repeated to his sleepy partner. "He wants us to meet him there."

"OK," Ray blinked trying to wake up. "Give me a minute."

Fraser chuckled. "I'll get us some coffee," he offered heading towards the small kitchen.

**************

Ray and Fraser stopped at the Consulate so that the Mountie could change clothes. They arrived at the TriCom building forty-five minutes later. Leaving Dief in the GTO, the partners hurried towards Lieutenant Welsh who was standing in front of the building talking to the Fire Department Chief.

"About time you got here," Welsh snapped as he saw the partners approaching. The Fire Department Chief excused himself barking orders at his men as he went.

Ray ignored the comment. "What happened Lieutenant?" he asked glancing at the building. Fire engines were parked close to the building, hose pipes trailing towards the entrance. He watched as an ambulance started up heading towards the hospital, its blue light flashing and siren wailing loudly shattering the silence of the quiet Saturday morning.

"Apparently a small incendiary device exploded in the mail room setting off the fire reporting system," the Lieutenant explained as he led them towards the building.

"The fire department arrived before it did too much damage. The mail room is smoke damaged. The mail and some equipment were fried. Luckily the fire didn't spread to any other part of the building."

"Anyone hurt?" Ray asked.

"A security guard was injured trying to put a small fire out. Paramedics say he's gonna be fine though," Welsh answered.

Ray ran his hand through his spiky blonde hair. "Do we know how the bomber got in?"

"Forensics are checking it out now," Welsh replied. "I called Edward Martin, and he's on his way over." The lieutenant studied the younger man; his face was pale and he looked exhausted. "You look like crap detective."

"Gee thanks Lieutenant," Ray smiled thinly.

"Are you ill Detective?" Welsh persisted.

"Just kinda tired Lieutenant." Ray admitted. "But I'm good." Welsh nodded satisfied, but shot a concerned look at Fraser. The Mountie returned the nod, and Welsh knew that he was keeping a close eye on the slender detective.

**************

Edward Martin arrived half an hour later. He slid out of the driving side of his black BMW. Ray was surprised to see his brother get out of the passenger seat. The two men hurried over to the detectives.

"Ray. Fraser," Gene nodded at the partners.

Edward Martin was looking up at the building. "This is just terrible. Who would do such a thing? Do you know what damage has been caused? I'll have to call our clients immediately," he babbled. Turning towards Ray's brother. "You'll have to get on to Pierre to come over and check out TIM. This is just awful."

"The security guard will be just fine," Ray said quietly glaring at Edward Martin.

"Vecchio," Welsh hissed as he began to shepherd Martin and Gene towards the building. "We need to ask you some questions." Welsh motioned for Ray and Fraser to follow.

Ray glanced around the reception area as they followed Welsh. Hose pipes were laying across the plush carpeting. Ray could see a cloud of grey smoke coming from a room at the back of the reception area. The smell of smoke and singed electrical equipment filled the air. The Fire Chief was still barking orders at his men.

Ray started as Gene appeared at his elbow. "See you got the GTO. I remember you and Dad spending hours working on it."

"Yeh. It's a great car," Ray grinned. "It was worth the hard work."

"May be," Gene said pensively. "I'm not sure if anything is worth a lot of hard work."

Welsh called him over before he could reply to his brother. Ray looked over his shoulder; Gene was staring into the distance lost in thought.

**************

The men settled themselves in Martin's office. "We just need to ask you some routine questions," Welsh said. Edward Martin nodded in agreement, his face pale. "Have you had any further threats by e-mail?" Welsh asked.

"No. Only the two I showed Detective Vecchio," Martin indicated Ray, who was sitting on the arm of a chair silently regarding his older brother. Gene was leaning lazily against the wall, his expression had changed to one of total indifference.

"I've spoken to forensics and they can find no evidence of forced entry," Welsh said moving towards the window and looking out across the city. "The device itself was home made. And not very well, or I think you could be looking at a lot more damage," he stated.

"If I may," Fraser interrupted. Welsh nodded. "Your door entry system. How does it work?" the Mountie asked.

"Gene," Martin turned to the elder Kowalski. "Perhaps you would like to explain the system."

"It would be my pleasure," Gene replied pushing himself away from the wall. He turned his attention to Fraser. "It's security coded. All employees have individual numbers they key in. The computer logs all keyed in numbers," he explained. "We can tell how many employees we have in the building at any one time," Gene explained stifling a yawn. "Because the numbers are allocated against individuals, we can also tell which employees are in the building and when they entered."

Ignoring the older man's indifference, Fraser continued. "What about visitors to the building?" Fraser queried.

"All visitors to TriCom are by appointment only. The person they are coming to see logs their details into the computer, either from their computer terminal in the office, or via a telephone modem." Gene paused to make sure Fraser was still listening. Satisfied he continued. "The camera at the entrance is connected to the computer. Its eyes you might say. When the visitor arrive, the computer checks the central company diary and admits them as appropriate. It's quite simple and effective really," he finished.

"And I assume that this system is foolproof as well," Ray noted sarcastically.

"Absolutely. It's completely tamper proof," Gene scowled at his younger brother. "I designed it myself. It's TIM's little brother DES," he smirked. "Or Door Entry System to you."

Ray went to open his mouth to reply, but Welsh glared at his detective in warning. Ray dropped his head in defeat staring at his boots. "So gentlemen, it would seem that you have a disgruntled employee. How many people are we talking about?" he directed his question at Edward Martin.

"Last count was 150 including the senior executives," Martin replied.

"We'll need a run down of all your employees so we can check everyone out," Welsh announced. "And we'll also need copies of the computer entry logs for the last three days."

Edward Martin looked worried. "Is this absolutely necessary Lieutenant?" he asked. "TriCom has an excellent reputation, which we are extremely proud of. If news of this gets out, it could ruin us."

Welsh stared at the man. "Mr. Martin. This is a very serious business. Someone sent your company threatening e-mails. And then whoever sent the e-mails came in here today or last night and planted a bomb which injured one of your employees. And it looks like it could be someone working for you," Welsh said. "I think it's very necessary, don't you?"

Martin considered the burly lieutenant for a moment. "Alright Lieutenant," he agreed reluctantly looking towards Ray's brother. "Gene. Would you mind organising the files for the Lieutenant?"

"No problem Edward. I'll go and organise that now," Gene volunteered heading towards the door. "I'll add the files on the internal e-mail system as well." He scowled at Ray as he passed him. Welsh nodded at the older Kowalski in thanks.

Edward Martin stood up and started to pace the office. "What do you think they want? They haven't asked for any money. They just threatened to release a virus into the system," he said.

"Let's say for the moment that money isn't the motive," Welsh said. "Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against TriCom? A business competitor. Or have you terminated an employee's contract recently?"

Martin thought for a moment then shook his head. "No Lieutenant. TriCom has excellent employee relations. And I can't think of anyone who would have a grudge against TriCom. Not even our closest competitor Computron."

Welsh thought for a moment, then handed Martin his business card. "If you think of anything that could help in the investigation, give me a call," he said. "Anything. Even the smallest thing could help us."

Martin took the offered card. "Thank you Lieutenant. I appreciate all your help in this matter," he offered his hand. "Now if you will excuse me, I must make some telephone calls. I'm sure Gene will have the information that you require by now."

Welsh shook his hand. "Thank you Mr. Martin," he motioned to Ray and Fraser as he headed for the door. "We'll be in touch." The lieutenant walked towards the elevator. Turning to Fraser. "Constable. I wonder if you mind collecting the files from Mr. Kowalski," he asked. "I need to speak to Vecchio for a minute."

"Of course Lieutenant," Fraser replied heading back along the corridor towards Gene Kowalski's office. Glancing over his shoulder as he went, he could see that Ray had started to wave his arms in the air. "Oh dear," he thought to himself.

Entering the outer officer, Fraser noticed that the connecting door was slightly ajar; he could hear Gene Kowalski's voice raised in anger. He stood silently listening to the conversation. Raising his hand Fraser knocked on the door. "Mr Kowalski," he called. "It's Constable Fraser."

"Look I've got to go now. Be here at 7.30 p.m. tonight. I'll be waiting for you," Gene whispered as he hung up the telephone. He got to his feet smiling as Fraser entered the office. "Come in Constable Fraser. I've got the files Lieutenant Welsh requested. I hope they help."

"I'm sure they will," Fraser accepted the files, tucking them under his arm. "Thank you kindly." He turned to leave the office.

"You don't like me, do you?" Gene said following the Mountie towards the office door.

Surprised at the question, Fraser cocked his head to one side. "I don't know you Mr. Kowalski," he answered politely.

Gene regarded the Mountie, his green eyes cold showing no emotion. "No you don't," Gene agreed. Fraser calmly returned the stare which seemed to disconcert the older man. Almost instantly, Gene's expression changed into a grin. "You and my little brother seem to be good friends."

"Yes. We are," Fraser agreed. "Ray is a good friend to me. My life in Chicago would be lonelier if it weren't for your brother's friendship."

Gene appeared to consider the statement for a moment. "And are you a good friend to Ray?" he asked unexpectedly.

Fraser stared directly at the older man surprised at the question. "Yes. I hope I am," he replied.

"Good," Gene said dismissively. "Despite what I am sure you think, I am very fond of my little brother."

Fraser raised his eyebrows in surprise studying the older man. His partner and his brother seemed to be flip sides of a coin; one self-assured and confident, the other vulnerable and sensitive. The only trait they seemed to have in common was a tendency towards changeable moods. "I see," he said politely.

"He was a great little kid," Gene beamed. "Really cute. Those big blue eyes of his always smiling. He used to follow me around when he was little. Until I told him to beat it and made him cry." Gene stared over the Mountie's shoulder lost in the memories of his childhood. "Kinda wish I hadn't done that now. Should have spent more time with him," he murmured wistfully.

"I'm sure Ray would have liked that," Fraser said.

"May be," Gene uttered.

Fraser couldn't help his curiosity, and knew his partner would never tell him."I'm curious. Why do you call him Half pint?" Fraser asked.

Gene laughed. "Oh that. Ray was always so small and skinny as a kid. Half pint kinda suited him. He hated it. Used to make him angry," he said grinning. "He's still skinny and it still makes him angry. But to me he'll always be Half pint." Gene sat on the edge of his desk. "Tell him to call me this week."

"I will," Fraser promised as he left the office. He didn't see Gene Kowalski staring after him, his expression both thoughtful and dangerous.

**************

Fraser made his way back to the GTO. His partner was slumped in the driving seat, his head resting on the steering wheel. He could see that Dief had laid his head on his partner's shoulder in comfort. Fraser slid into the passenger seat. "Ray. Are you alright?" he asked concerned placing his stetson on the dashboard.

Ray lifted his head slowly turning tired eyes towards his friend. "Yeh Frase. Got the files I see," he said as he started the GTO. The engine roared into life, and Ray headed the GTO out of the business centre. Fraser frowned to himself; his partner's cheeks were flushed and he appeared to be trembling slightly.

Fraser balanced the files on his knees. "What did Lieutenant Welsh want?" he asked curious.

"Oh ya know," Ray replied, his voice sounding tired. "Asked me if I could handle the case with my brother being involved."

"And can you?" Fraser asked.

"I told him I was cool with it," Ray glanced sideways at his partner. "Then he chewed me out some over my attitude as usual. And told me to go home and look over the files. See if I can find some kinda connection." He sighed heavily running a hand through his blonde spikes. "As if my head don't hurt enough as it is."

"I would be happy to assist you with the files," Fraser said. "And I will make us both a cup of bark tea. It will be better for your headache than the aspirins I noticed you taking this morning."

Ray glanced sideways at his partner. "Thank you kindly," he mimicked.

**************

Once back at the apartment, Fraser disappeared into the small kitchen to make the promised bark tea. "You sit down. I'll bring the tea through in a moment," he said.

Ray stood near the door willing his feet to move. Dief was at his feet looking up at his favourite American; the wolf whined in concern. "I'm good Dief," Ray patted his nose reassuringly. Staring ahead, Ray's head pounded with pain making him feel sick. He took a step forward swaying slightly. The room had begun to spin and his vision was blurry. "Frase," he murmured as his knees buckled. Dief barked in concern.

Fraser appeared at the kitchen door just in time to see his friend hit the floor in a dead faint. "Ray," he rushed forward dropping to his knees. Pulling Ray onto his side, he checked his breathing; it was deep and even. His friend's face was flushed, and Fraser ran his fingers over Ray's forehead; it was hot and sweaty. Dief barked a question at the Mountie. "Yes Diefenbaker, he'll be fine," Fraser replied as he lifted Ray into his arms. Cradling his friend carefully he carried him towards the couch, Dief at his heels. Laying his friend down, Fraser covered him with one of the discarded blankets. Retrieving a damp cloth from the bathroom, he gently wiped Ray's face.

Ray began to mumble as he regained consciousness. He swatted at the cloth with his hand. He opened his eyes to see Fraser looking down at him with concern. "What happened?" he muttered struggling to sit up despite Fraser's efforts to try and push him back down onto the couch.

Fraser gave up trying to persuade him to lay down. "You fainted Ray," he said sitting back onto the coffee table. "How do you feel now?"

"Huh. Fine, " Ray replied as he struggled to his feet. Fraser was about to protest again, but noticed that Ray's face had changed from the flushed pink colour to a deathly white one. "Gonna be sick," Ray cried as he pushed past Fraser and Dief running towards the bathroom.

"Oh dear," Fraser muttered as he heard the sounds of retching and coughing coming from the bathroom as Ray emptied his stomach of its contents.

Fifteen minutes later Ray appeared from the bathroom, his thin face still deathly pale, sweat beaded on his forehead. Arms wrapped around his slender frame, he was shivering uncontrollably. Fraser jumped up and guided his friend back to the couch. "I'll call a doctor," Fraser said as he tucked the blanket around his partner.

Ray grabbed for his arm. "Nah don't do that. Ya know how I hate doctors," Ray protested. "It's just one of them twenty-four hour thingys. I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

"Well you don't look fine to me," Fraser argued looking down at his partner's pale face. "And I seriously doubt it is one of those twenty-four hour thingys as you put it." He adopted his sternest expression. "I think you probably have the flu virus that half your squad has recently been suffering from," he concluded.

"A virus eh? Just like one of those computers," Ray managed a small smile. "I'll be fine Frase. No doctors. OK?" Dief leapt up onto the couch adopting his usual position on Ray's legs. The blonde detective smiled ruffling the wolf's fur fondly.

The Mountie studied his partner for a moment; Ray could be extremely stubborn and difficult when it came to visiting the doctor or the hospital. He sighed in defeat. "Very well. As you wish Ray," Fraser conceded. "I'll get the tea."

"Bring the files. We'll start to go through them," Ray shouted as Fraser moved into the kitchen.

Fraser returned carrying their tea, the files under his arm. "Are you sure you are up to reading files Ray?" he asked concern in his voice.

"Don't fuss Frase," Ray pleaded. "Yer worse than my Mum."

"I am just concerned about you," Fraser remonstrated handing his partner half of the files.

Ray took the offered files laying them on his legs. "Yeh I know," Ray idly stroked the wolf's soft fur. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright Ray," Fraser said picking up a file. Opening it, he began to scan the contents. "The computer records show that the threatening e-mails originated from a terminal situated in an unused office," Fraser noted.

"So that's a dead end," Ray said looking up from his own file. "Anyone could have sent the threatening e-mails."

"Not necessarily. The file says the office is kept locked at all times," Fraser read on. "The senior executives of TriCom appear to be the only key holders."

Ray nodded. "What about the entry logs?" he asked.

Fraser scanned the second file. "It would also seem that the only entry code used today was Edward Martin's personal code," he noted. "The computer logged the entry at 5.00 a.m."

"So our clever computer system logged him coming into the building, and he could have sent the e-mails," Ray screwed his eyes up. "But I can't see why would he want to destroy TriCom? Vice President is a good job, and I bet it comes with a good salary." His head pounded in pain and he closed his eyes.

Fraser became thoughtful for a moment. "May be someone wants us to believe that Edward Martin is our man," he mused. "Someone who is good with computers would easily be able to falsify records."

Puzzled by his partner's unusual silence, Fraser peered over the top of the file. He smiled to himself; Ray was fast asleep, his head to one side and a file leaning on his chest. Fraser frowned to himself as he remembered the half conversation he had overheard earlier that day. Mind made up, he scribbled a note to Ray. He made a quick telephone call, and then instructed Dief to stay put. Grabbing his stetson, Fraser crept out of the apartment.

**************

Fraser hailed a cab outside the apartment building. Giving the driver the address, he stared out of the window mulling over the events of the last two days. Arriving at the TriCom Building, he paid the driver and hurried to the entrance.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to TriCom. Please state the nature of your business," the computerised voice asked.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Edward Martin," Fraser responded politely.

"Please proceed to the reception area where you will be met by a representative of our company," the voice droned. "Enjoy your visit with TriCom."

"Thank you kindly," Fraser replied automatically as the door swung open admitting him to the building. He noticed that the reception area had been returned to its impersonal and almost antiseptic appearance, but the Mountie could still smell faint traces of smoke left over from the fire. Stepping into the elevator, Fraser pressed the button for the twentieth floor. He patiently watched the elevator counter move to the number twenty. With a ping, the doors opened and Fraser stepped out into the carpeted corridor. He quietly made his way along the corridor stopping outside the outer office; he could hear two voices.

"I aint stupid so stop calling me stupid," one voice shouted. "I wanted them to know we were serious."

"I told you not to do anything. Told you to be patient. I haven't worked my butt off for the last six months for you to mess it all up. Because of your stupidity, the cops are all over the place," the second voice shouted back.

"So damn well crash the system. Transfer the money and let's get outta here,"the first voice yelled.

"The money's already transferred," the second voice snapped.

Fraser cleared his throat and stepped forward pushing the door open. Two startled faces stared back at him. "I hoped it wasn't you. For Ray's sake," Fraser said sadly.

Gene Kowalski recovered first. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. And how did you get in?"

"Well actually I rang Mr. Martin and asked him to log me as a visitor. Your door entry system admitted me, but no guard met me as this is a weekend," Fraser explained. "A flaw in your perfect system perhaps," he cocked his head to one side.

"Who's this?" the second man barked.

"Oh. No-one important," Gene grinned. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at Fraser. "Just a bug in our system."

**************

Ray woke with a start; he ached all over and he felt very hot. Struggling to sit up, he threw the blanket onto the floor. His throat was dry and he felt thirsty. Dief had pawed the television remote control and was avidly watching an episode of Star Trek Voyager.

"Trekkie huh?" Ray fondled the wolf's head as he looked around the apartment. "Frase," he called. No answer. Dief whined nudging the note on the coffee table.

"Thanks Dief," Ray said picking up the piece of paper. "So he's gone to TriCom to get some more files."

Ray swung his legs to the floor. Steadying himself as he got to his feet, he moved into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. Glass in hand, he settled himself back on the couch next to Dief to watch Star Trek Voyager. After half an hour, his vision became blurry and his head began to pound in pain as the television images flickered. He lay back closing his eyes listening to the sounds from the television as the crew of the starship Voyager battled an evil ex-crew member. He smiled to himself as Dief woofed in encouragement every now and again. Opening his eyes, he took a sip of his water. He ruffled Dief's fur as he glanced towards the TriCom files. Picking up the personnel resumes, he began to scan the contents. He sat up straight startling Dief who woofed in protest. "Come on Dief. We gotta go," Ray said standing up. He swayed as the room spun around again. He shook his head in an effort to clear the fuzziness. Grabbing his jacket, he made his way slowly to the door supporting himself on the walls, Dief at his heels.

Ray decided to leave the GTO behind as his head felt too muddled to drive. Hailing a cab Ray persuaded the driver, with a promise of a large tip, to take Dief as well. He wound down the window letting the cool early evening air flow over his face.

Arriving at TriCom, he hastily paid the driver and motioning Dief to follow, Ray hurried as fast as his tired legs would carry him towards the building. His legs felt like lead, and he was breathing heavily from the short walk to the door. He leant against the wall trying to catch his breath. "Come on Kowalski. Ya can do this," he thought to himself.

"Good evening. Welcome to TriCom. Please state the nature of your business," the computerised voice asked.

Ray held up his ID card to the camera. "Detective Vecchio. Chicago PD."

The camera's red light blinked. "I am sorry, but our records show that you do not have an appointment," the computerised voice said. Ray rattled the door frustrated. Dief whined as Ray banged on the glass. "Chicago PD," he yelled. "Open this door, or I'll kick it in."

"Good evening. Welcome to TriCom. Please state the nature of your business," the computerised voice repeated.

Ray's head hurt and it was taking all his energy just to stay on his feet. Desperately worried about his partner, he drew his gun from his shoulder holster. Shielding his face with his arm, he shot at the entry key pad. It hissed at him in protest, the lights of the pad fading. His second and third shots took out the camera; it exploded in a spectacular burst of brightly coloured electrical sparks. "Gooodd eveennning. Welcooomme toooo TriiiCoommmm," the voice whirred to a halt.

"Serves ya right. Ya smug bunch of junk," Ray cried as the door swung open. Ray kept his gun drawn as he and Dief entered the deserted building. Making a quick call on his cell phone, Ray moved towards the elevator. Stepping inside, he jabbed the button for the twentieth floor.

Ray peered carefully around the doors as they opened. Happy that the corridor was empty, he cautiously stepped out making his way slowly along the corridor, Dief close at his heels. As he neared his brother's office, Dief growled low in his throat sensing that Fraser was nearby. "It's OK Dief. Now yer to stay here until I yell. OK?" he instructed. Dief whined in protest, but sank to the floor obediently. Ray's heart was pounding in his chest, and he was sweating. Brushing his arm across his forehead, he wiped at the sweat that had formed. He could hear faint voices coming from inside, and he put his ear to the closed door. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Ray pushed the door open holding his gun tightly in his outstretched hands. "Chicago PD," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Drop the guns."

Gene Kowalski stared back calmly at his younger brother. "Oh I don't think so

Half pint," he grinned twirling his revolver around one of his fingers. "What do you think Angus?" he directed his comment to his muscular partner who had

Fraser covered with his gun. Angus grinned shaking his head pressing his gun into the Mountie's side making Fraser murmur in pain.

Ray's legs felt heavy and he couldn't stop trembling. "I said drop yer guns," he repeated, his voice shaky.

"You don't look very well Ray," Gene noted. Placing his gun on the desk, he took a step towards his younger brother indicating a chair. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down." Ray shook his head tightening his grip on the gun. "I'm curious. How did you know it was me?" Gene asked changing the subject. "After my partner here got impatient and planted the bomb, I tried to make sure all paths led to our illustrious Vice President Edward Martin."

"Tuvok and yer file told me," Ray replied simply stepping backwards.

Gene narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. "Tuvok?" he questioned.

"Dief and I were watching Star Trek Voyager," Ray explained. "Tuvok discovered that a former crew woman had re-programmed the computer to re-write a hologram training programme. I didn't think anything of it until I read yer file. Ya helped design TIM when ya were in Tokyo. I think ya programmed a code or something into the computer so ya could access it at any time."

"Very clever Half pint. I always thought you were smarter than you let on," Gene clapped his hands slowly. "You are quite right of course. I wrote a clever little programme and hid it in the system at the early design stages. It allows me to circumvent the master programmes any time I want."

"Why?" Ray asked still aiming his gun at his brother. "Why? I don't understand. Ya have everything."

Fraser coughed attracting the brothers' attention. "I believe your brother wants to take his revenge on a company that ignored his accomplishments. Passed him over for promotion, probably more than once." he said.

Gene turned towards the Mountie. "Very clever and absolutely right. The Vice President's position should have been mine. I earned it. I deserve it. Edward Martin doesn't know one computer from another. TIM and DES aren't the only systems I helped design for TriCom. My programmes have made the company a world leader in their field."

"And I also suspect that money has never been the motive," Fraser stated. "The threatening e-mails were just your way of frightening Mr. Martin."

Before Gene could reply Angus stood up. "What does he mean?" he said jabbing Fraser in the side again. "The money is in the bag. Right?"

Gene's green eyes flashed with anger. "Shut up Angus. You'll get your money, don't worry. Just keep him covered," he indicated Fraser. Gene turned back to his younger brother. "In fact, you have arrived here just in time to watch me take my revenge," he pointed at his personal computer. "My virus programme is in the process of downloading to the main frame," he looked at his watch. "In exactly thirty minutes TIM, TriCom and all their clients will be no more. Gone forever."

"Please stop it," Ray pleaded his hands shaking. "Then we can work...... work something out. It's not too late."

Gene laughed harshly. "Oh but it is," he said moving back towards his desk picking up his gun. "I think you should put your gun down little brother," Gene turned to face his brother. "If you don't. I will kill your friend." Ray trembled slightly, but he remained with his gun trained on his brother. "You don't think I'll do it. Do you?" Gene said.

Ray shook his head. "Yer not a killer," he mumbled. "I know yer not."

"Oh but you don't know me anymore Half pint," Gene raised his arm pointing the gun directly at Ray. The blonde detective stared back defiantly. Grinning Gene swung his arm sideways pulling the trigger. Angus looked surprised as the bullet hit him in the centre of the head killing him instantly. His body collapsed forward onto the floor, his gun sliding underneath the desk. Gene moved quickly pulling Fraser in front of him digging the barrel of the gun into the Mountie's neck. "Never did like the man," he admitted. "Always worrying about money." He pushed the barrel of the gun into Fraser's neck again. "Now drop the gun," Gene threatened.

Ray took a step backwards, a look of horror on his face. Staring down at the dead man, he tightened his grip on the gun. Snapping his head back to look at his older brother. "No," he cried his slender body trembling, sweat running down his face.

"I'll kill him," Gene stated calmly stepping towards the blonde detective.

Tears sprung to Ray's eyes making his already blurred vision cloudier. "Please put the gun down," he pleaded. "Don't make me shoot ya."

"Oh you won't shoot me," Gene goaded. "I'm your big brother."

"Please," Ray cried stepping backwards aiming his gun upwards. He pulled the trigger firing just over his brother's head. Gene looked at his brother in surprise as the bullet embedded itself in the wall behind him producing a small cloud of plaster dust.

"Please," Ray whimpered closing his eyes and levelling his gun at this older brother.

Fraser had remained silent waiting for his opportunity. An eerie silence seemed to echo around the office; taking his chance, Fraser slammed his elbow backwards into Gene's ribs. He simultaneously made a fist smashing it into the older man's face. Staggering backwards Gene yelped in pain releasing the Mountie. While Gene was still stunned, Fraser brought his hand down hard with a chopping motion making Gene release the gun. Fraser kicked the gun away, and with a final punch, he floored the older man.

**************

The door burst open and Welsh, Huey and Dewey entered the room, guns drawn. Leaving the detectives to deal with Gene Kowalski, Fraser moved to his friend's side. Ray was standing still, his eyes tightly closed. His arm hung loosely at his side, his gun dangling from his fingers. Dief was standing by the side of the blonde detective protectively. "Ray," Fraser said gently taking the gun from his partner's hand. "Ray."

Ray opened his eyes slowly. "Frase," he mumbled. "The disease thingy."

"Oh God," Fraser said as he moved quickly towards the desk laying Ray's gun down. Welsh followed the Mountie peering over his shoulder as Fraser sat down in front of the terminal.

Ray watched as Huey and Dewey handcuffed his elder brother hauling him to his feet. Huey was reciting his rights as they dragged him towards the door. "Gene," Ray murmured as they moved past him. Gene stopped to face his younger brother. "I'm sorry."

Gene's green eyes sparkled. "You are one hell of a good police officer. Dad is stupid not to be proud of you. If only he'd open his eyes, he'd see what a good son he has in you. One to be proud of," Gene said lifting his hands he patted Ray on the cheek. "See you around Half pint."

Ray watched as Huey and Dewey lead his brother along the corridor. He dropped his head, balling his hands into fists trying to make the ache in his chest disappear. "Love ya Gene," he whispered to himself.

"Over here Vecchio," Welsh called. Ray turned slowly and dragged himself over towards Fraser and Welsh. Dief stayed close to the blonde detective, his furry side in contact with Ray's leg at all times, offering his own style of comfort. Fraser was busy at the keyboard, his fingers running over the keys expertly.

"Can ya shut it down Frase?" Ray asked peering over his friend's shoulder.

"I have managed to access your brother's programme. "Now I just require the password to shut the virus down," Fraser said, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Any ideas?"

"Nah. He was right earlier," Ray said resignedly. "I don't know him any more." He stared distractedly at the covered body laying on the floor. A pool of blood had stained the plush cream carpet bright red.

"Ray. Think," Fraser commanded his fingers moving over the keyboard typing in random numbers and letters in an effort to find the password. Fraser knew that it was a risky technique clearly aware that the system could lock him out altogether. He looked up at his partner again; Ray was still staring at the covered body. "Ray. Think. We only have five minutes left before the virus enters the main system. Think."

Ray's attention snapped back towards the Mountie. "I can't. My heads hurts," he wailed screwing his eyes up in thought. Opening his eyes, he waved his hand in the air. "Try Mum and Dad's names."

Fraser typed in the Kowalski's first names. The screen continued to count down the percentage of virus loading - 90%, 91%, 92%..... Fraser studied the screen again racking his brain. He glanced sideways at his partner, who had perched himself on the edge of the desk his head in his hands. A thought struck him, and his fingers flew across the keyboard again. The screen cleared; a message announced that the download process had been halted at 97%. Fraser sighed in relief as he flexed his fingers.

Lieutenant Welsh sucked in a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "Well done, Constable," he said slapping Fraser on the back. "I don't know how you did it, but well done."

"Well Lieutenant," Fraser leaned back in the chair. "Most people chose a password that is personal to them. Gene Kowalski was no different," he looked at Ray. "He choose Half pint."

Ray stared at Fraser, tears springing to his eyes. He wiped at them with his sleeve. Welsh moved closer to the younger man in concern. He could see that Ray was shivering, his thin face pale. His spiky blonde hair was damp with sweat. Welsh put a hand on Ray's shoulder. "Detective. As I said earlier, you look like crap. Go home. Go to bed," he instructed.

Fraser appeared at his side. "I'll drive him home Lieutenant," he volunteered.

"Nah. I'll be fine," Ray started to push himself to his feet. Feeling shaky, he hung onto the desk afraid that his legs would give way. His once heavy legs now felt like jelly. Welsh and Fraser seemed to fade into a misty light that threatened to engulf him. Ray could hear their voices through the fog that seemed to be enveloping his brain, and he reached his hand out towards them. Ray could feel himself falling down into the darkness. He vaguely felt hands gently lowering him to the floor.

"Ray," he could hear someone calling his name. Opening his eyes, he focused on Fraser looking down at him, a concerned frown on his face. "Ray."

Ray tried to sit upright, but Fraser held him down gently. "Gotta go see Mum and Dad. Tell them about Gene," he muttered tears springing to his eyes again.

Welsh knelt by the detective. "No Ray. Let Fraser take you home," he commanded.

"No. Gotta see Mum and Dad," Ray insisted struggling against Fraser's firm hand on his chest. "Gotta tell them."

"Now listen to me Ray," Welsh said firmly. "You are to let Fraser take you home. And you are to get some rest." Ray opened his mouth to protest again, but was silenced by a wave of the burly lieutenant's hand. "I'll go and see your parents for you. You can call them tomorrow when you feel better," Welsh offered kindly. "OK?"

Ray regarded the older man for a moment. Wiping at his tears. "OK," he conceded reluctantly. "Ya will tell them that I'll call them tomorrow. Won't ya?"

"I promise," Welsh answered nodding to Fraser. "And I don't wanna see your skinny ass until next week," he said as the Mountie hauled his partner to his feet. With Dief at his heels, Fraser supported his friend as they walked slowly towards the door. They passed the paramedics who were loading the covered body onto a stretcher; Fraser felt Ray tense. "It's alright Ray," Fraser whispered soothingly.

**************

Fraser drove his partner back to his apartment. Ray had fallen asleep during the journey, his head leaning against the glass. Fraser kept glancing sideways at his friend in concern; lines of exhaustion were etched on his thin face making the slim detective seem even more fragile and vulnerable than usual.

Parking the GTO in Ray's usual spot, he slid out of the driving seat pulling the back forward to let Dief out of the back seat. Moving around the car, Fraser opened the passenger door shaking his friend gently. "Ray. Wake up. We're here," he said.

"Mmmm," Ray murmured opening his eyes sleepily. Fraser managed to get Ray out of the vehicle, and half carried him up to the apartment. Settling his friend on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him, Fraser sat in the armchair and watched as his partner slept. Dief adopted his usual position, nestled behind Ray his furry nose resting on the blonde's back.

**************

Fraser woke with a start; he could smell coffee. Glancing down at his watch, he was surprised to see that it was 8.00 a.m. Fraser felt guilty; he had fallen asleep when he should have been looking after Ray. Dief was lying on the couch watching him. The wolf barked.

"So the sleepy Mountie is awake," Ray said placing two mugs on the coffee table. Ray slumped onto the couch, and Fraser scrutinized his friend's appearance; he had showered and changed his clothes. Although his face was still pale, Fraser thought he looked a lot better.

Fraser flushed in embarrassment. "I am so sorry Ray," he apologised. "I was supposed to be looking after you."

Ray grinned. "Don't worry Frase. Dief stood in for ya," he teased as he fondled the wolf's head. Dief barked in agreement. "And anyways. I feel much better now. The sleep did me good."

"I'm glad," Fraser answered. "You certainly look better than you did yesterday."

Ray stretched his long legs out, nursing his mug of coffee between his two hands. He stared in silence at his book case, seemingly lost in thought. "Called my Mum and Dad," he said quietly.

Fraser shifted leaning forward to pick up his mug of tea. "I see. How did they take the news?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

Ray stared distractedly into his mug. "Not good," he eventually replied. "They didn't...... didn't really believe it. Thought there had been some sorta mistake."

"I am sure that Lieutenant Welsh explained the situation fully," Fraser reassured.

"Yeh. I know he did. Mum said he was very kind," Ray replied continuing to stare at his coffee. "It's just that they..... they can't believe that their son is a.... is a murderer," Ray choked.

Fraser dropped his head. "I'm sure it must be difficult for them," he agreed.

Ray glanced sideways at his friend. "They're gonna see Gene today. Mum said the Lieutenant organised it for them. They wanna talk to him. Wanna see..... see for themselves I suppose," he whispered. Ray continued to look at Fraser, his expression earnest. "Why do ya think he did it?" he asked. " Computers were his life. I just don't understand what made him wanna destroy something he helped create."

Fraser thought for a moment trying to remember how he had felt when he faced his father's murderer. Taking a deep breath. "I think revenge is a deep emotion. It festers and grows like a disease. It takes over becoming the driving force behind our actions." He glanced over to his friend; Ray was listening intently nodding slightly.

"Go on," Ray encouraged taking a sip of his coffee.

Fraser took another breath. "Your brother felt betrayed by a company he had worked hard for. He helped design a computer system which I am sure has made TriCom vast amounts of money, yet he was ignored when promotions were made. His personnel file says that he was passed over for promotion on three separate occasions despite designing several successful computer programmes." Fraser sighed. "I think in the end, it sent him over the edge driving him to destroy what he had helped to create."

Ray remained silent, lost in thought. "Guess yer right," he eventually said. "Don't explain him shooting his partner, or threatening to kill ya."

Fraser shook his head. "No it doesn't Ray," he agreed. "We may never know the reason why he killed his partner."

Ray sat for a moment thoughtful. "Ya know. My Dad once told me that I would have the stink of bad people on me if I became a police officer," he said dropping his head to study his hands. "Guess that includes Gene now."

"Will you go to visit your brother?" Fraser asked.

Ray shook his head; in his mind's eye he could still see the dead body oozing blood from a bullet hole his older brother had made. "Nah. I don't think so. Not.... not after," he stuttered his blue eyes looking directly at his partner. "I just can't Frase. Not yet. I will, but not yet. If only for Mum and Dad's sake."

Fraser nodded in understanding. "If it would help. Dief and I would be happy to accompany you when you feel the time is right," Fraser offered.

"Yeh. Thanks Frase," Ray smiled glad that Fraser and Dief were his friends. "Do ya want some breakfast?" Ray said changing the subject. "I got eggs and bacon in the refrigerator."

Although his partner seemed to be avoiding the subject of his brother, Fraser knew that Ray would eventually confront his feelings and visit Gene. He smiled at Ray. "A miracle," he teased. "You actually have real food in the cupboards."

"Hardy ha ha. Funny guy," Ray pulled a face moving towards the kitchen. "I can do real food sometimes." Dief trotted after his favourite American, still protective.

Fraser could hear his partner banging pots and pans as he started to get breakfast. "Use the shower if ya wanna," Ray yelled from the kitchen.

"Thank you kindly," Fraser replied heading towards the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later Ray placed two plates on the breakfast bar. "Breakfast's up," he shouted. Fraser smiled to himself as he saw Ray putting a bowl with eggs and bacon on the floor for Dief; he pretended not to notice.

Ray disappeared coming back with the mail in his hands. Sitting on a stool, he opened one of the envelopes. Scanning the contents, he began to chuckle to himself.

"Something funny?" Fraser asked curious as his friend's chuckle turned into a loud laugh.

Ray giggled as he handed the letter to the Mountie. Fraser quickly read the letter. He grinned. "It would appear that you have won a home computer system Ray," he said chuckling.

"Yeh. With its own internal virus checker," Ray giggled.

"Time to get computer literate my friend," Fraser teased.

"Understood," Ray mimicked one of Fraser's favourite sayings.

THE END

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